


Thou Art More Lovely and More Temperate

by Llama1412



Series: Love Shack [6]
Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Biting, Body Worship, Enemies to Lovers, Established Relationship, M/M, Marking, Non-Human Genitalia, Panties, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rough Sex, Scar Worship, Secret Relationship, Self-Esteem Issues, Self-Worth Issues, Tender Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-06
Updated: 2020-08-06
Packaged: 2021-03-05 23:15:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,766
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25753426
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Llama1412/pseuds/Llama1412
Summary: Iorveth wants to pretend he’s beautiful. So he puts on a pair of silk panties and goes to the secret home Roche built for him and Roche makes him believe he is, if only for a little while.
Relationships: Iorveth/Vernon Roche
Series: Love Shack [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1860328
Comments: 12
Kudos: 77





	Thou Art More Lovely and More Temperate

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so this is part of a new series (called Love Shack because they have a secret love shack, get it?) that I have literally 75 pages of WiPs for in GDocs. This particular one is set later in the verse, where Iorveth and Roche have already gotten together and are maintaining a secret relationship where they fight by day and meet in their secret love nest by night.
> 
> Also, dh'oine = human in Elder Speech

Iorveth didn’t do this often. In his line of work, it was hardly practical. But sometimes, on special occasions when he wanted to pretend that his beauty hadn’t been ruined, he pulled on a pair of the dark green silk panties that he’d special ordered from his contact outside Novigrad. 

He wanted to feel beautiful today. His bandana had been torn during a mission early in the day and the way everyone had recoiled at the sight of him had his hackles up. Iorveth knew he looked monstrous now, but when even his own men pulled away…

So he wanted to pretend he was still beautiful. Just for a little while. 

He slid the silk up his legs until it cupped his soft cock and stretched across the swell of his ass. The fabric was so smooth and slippery against him, and it reminded him of the way he’d once had nice things, luxuries that were no longer possible as an outlaw freedom fighter. 

But there was somewhere in his life that allowed him a few of the things he’d once thought he could never have again. A soft pillow nest under the stars, a carved wooden bathtub big enough to stretch out in, even the luxury of sleeping without a knife under his pillow – there was a place that he had all of that now. A place he’d been  _ given _ all of that.

A place he could go right now, if he wanted to. 

Iorveth pulled on the matching silk stockings and then slipped on a pair of light pants and a plain tunic over his panties. The stockings would be hidden underneath his pants and his boots, which Iorveth was both grateful for and considered a shame.

After all, it was much easier to feel beautiful when other people looked at you as if you were. Even if it was only because of the clothes he wore.

Iorveth snuck out of the Scoia’tael base camp and leapt quietly through the trees until he came upon the abandoned hunter’s cabin that they had taken over for their own purposes. It looked rundown on the outside, overgrown with vines, but from the inside, the cabin had been fixed up to the point of extravagance, with the softest bed Iorveth had ever slept in and, more delightfully, the pillow nest in the solarium. 

With vines growing across the outside of the glass, the sunlight didn’t shine in too brightly for Iorveth’s eye to take, and in the evenings, he could lay and stare up at the stars, sometimes composing a song on his flute if the mood took him.

Iorveth entered silently and nearly ran directly into Vernon Roche, who wore an old shirt and paint-speckled trousers and was carrying a can of paint.

“Iorveth!” Roche grunted in surprise, jerking to the side to avoid getting paint on Iorveth. 

Iorveth tilted his head, looking over the half painted cabinets in the cabin’s little kitchen. “Didn’t you just paint those recently?”

“Didn’t like the color,” Roche shrugged. His gaze dragged slowly up and down Iorveth’s body in a way that never failed to make him feel desirable. “Wasn’t expecting to run into you today,” Roche said and the low, gravely quality to his voice made Iorveth shiver.

“Wanted to look at the stars,” Iorveth said.

Roche set down the paint bucket and reached out to touch him, pulling back at the last moment when he realized his hands were spotted with wet paint. 

Iorveth found his attention focused on those fingers, covered in a deep green shade that he rather thought might match his lingerie. Suddenly, he wanted nothing more than to be covered in green handprints.

“Touch me,” he demanded and Roche raised an eyebrow, but reached out to cup Iorveth’s scarred cheek. When he could feel the smooth smear of paint over the rough callus on Roche’s thumb against bare skin, Iorveth suddenly realized that he’d never replaced his bandana.

He’d had no idea. Nothing about the way Roche had reacted to his presence had made him think his ugliness was on display.

Iorveth’s breath caught and he almost pulled away, but Roche surged forward at that moment to kiss him, thumb still rubbing gently over his damaged cheek. Iorveth sighed into the kiss, letting Roche set their pace, slow and deep. He wrapped his arms around Roche’s neck, ruffling his fingers through the short hair on Roche’s head.

Roche shivered, grabbing him by the hips to pull him closer. Then those hands – big and strong, rough and callused, the same hands that had built Iorveth a home – snuck under the hem of his tunic and Roche was sliding a paint-slick hand in a long drag up his back. 

Iorveth pictured the long green handprint that would match his panties and he moaned into the kiss before pulling back. “Clothes,” he rasped, pushing lightly on Roche’s shoulders to direct him towards the solarium. Iorveth wanted to be taken in the pillow nest, the nest that Roche had built for him.

Roche moved backwards obligingly, but didn’t stop kissing Iorveth, darting in to kiss across his cheeks – even the damaged one. It made Iorveth feel...something. Something he wasn’t prepared to worry about when all that stood between him and pleasure were a few layers of clothes.

He shoved Roche back and then lifted his own leg to pull off his boots. Roche huffed a laugh, but pulled his own tunic over his head. Iorveth bit his lip, looking over the bare skin on display, the hairy chest that just barely shone with perspiration. Then he dropped his trousers and ducked past Roche to run to the solarium on stockinged feet, the tunic’s long hem the only thing hiding his secret from Roche.

But what point were secrets here, in the one place they didn’t matter? In the one place each of them could pretend the world outside didn’t exist and just  _ be _ .

Roche made a startled sound and quickly ditched the rest of his clothes, walking towards Iorveth. Iorveth licked his lips and met Roche’s eyes before stripping off the tunic and standing before Roche in nothing by his panties, his stockings, and his scars.

“Fuck,” Roche licked his lips, eyes wide and dark. Then he was moving forward with long quick strides and tackling Iorveth back into the pillow nest that Roche had built into the floor. 

Iorveth did  _ not _ squeak into the hungry kiss Roche devoured him with as soon as they landed. But he did untangle their legs so that he could drag his silk stockinged feet over Roche’s calves, catching on the hair there. 

Roche shivered bodily against him, breaking their kiss to pant wetly against his cheek. “Fuck, Iorveth, you’re gorgeous.” Iorveth’s breath caught in his throat and Roche noticed, ducking down to press a kiss against his neck. “Like that? Being told how beautiful you are?” Roche murmured, kissing his way up Iorveth’s neck. He’d expected Roche to go for his ears – something they both enjoyed  _ quite _ a lot – but instead, Roche sucked kisses across his jaw and up his cheek.

His scarred cheek.

Iorveth felt his breath coming fast and something almost burning welled up behind his eyes. “Vernon–”

“Because you are,” Roche whispered against his face. “Not despite your scars,” Roche’s mouth brushed lightly over the spot where tears had started to gather below Iorveth’s empty eye socket. “Because of them. Because they’re part of you and you could never be anything else.”

Iorveth made a small sound and Roche kissed him again, tracing his way down the scar on his cheek to his lips. Roche sucked at his top lip, licking over the divot of the scar. When Roche finally pulled back and looked down at Iorveth, both of their lips were swollen and Roche had a soft look on his face that Iorveth wasn’t prepared to deal with.

“You’re beautiful.  _ All  _ of you. From the way you dance gracefully through a fight to the way you hog all the covers.”

“Vernon,” Iorveth breathed, his voice choked. 

“And now,” Roche slid down the bed, kissing the hollow of Iorveth’s throat, then the center of his chest, “I would very much like to explore these pretty things you’re wearing.”

“Fuck,” Iorveth gasped. 

Roche left green fingerprints down Iorveth’s chest, then he framed Iorveth’s ribs with his hands and leaned down to bite Iorveth’s stomach just above his belly button. “You’re a soldier,” Roche whispered, leaving another bite on the edge of his ribs. “Your body shows how hard you fight and that’s nothing to be ashamed of. Besides,” this time, the bite was right above the hem of his panties, “wouldn’t look right without a few marks. You’re not the kind of commander who sends men into situations you won’t face head on.” 

Roche’s teeth pressed against the divot in his hip and Iorveth tried very hard not to moan. But his restraint was all for nothing when Roche pushed his left thigh up and out and sucked a mark right next to the panties on the crease of his thigh.

“Look at you,” Roche breathed over the bulge of his cock and Iorveth twitched. “All dressed up and already wet.”

And fuck, he  _ was _ already wet, his cock leaking slick and his cunt staining the silk with wetness. Roche groaned, pressing his face against the panties. His tongue flicked out to touch Iorveth’s folds through the fabric.

Iorveth gasped wildly, hands clawing into the blankets. Roche was so very skilled with his mouth and Iorveth wanted to scream because he also knew that Roche loved nothing as much as tormenting and teasing him for as long as possible.

Roche kept licking at him through the panties, pressing in the slightest bit with his tongue, but never giving Iorveth what he needed. It took embarrassingly little time before Iorveth was twitching with every touch, low pleading sounds escaping his mouth. 

Roche grinned against him, leaning back to blow cold air over the wet silk. Iorveth shuddered, nails digging into the cushions below him. One of Roche’s hands took his left hand and interwove their fingers. Iorveth clutched at him desperately, so close to the edge but needing just a bit more.

“So beautiful,” Roche murmured, his thumb pressing inside Iorveth through the silk. It should have been uncomfortable, but all Iorveth could think about was how he wanted more, wanted Roche to rip away the panties and slide into him. “You always look so incredible. The fire in your eyes when we’re fighting, your lopsided smile when you’re fucking with me, but gods, this is my favorite look on you.” Roche’s thumb rubbed gently across his folds, “eyes glazed with pleasure, body loose, no more masks to hide behind – and all for  _ me.”  _

With the last word, Roche darted down to bite down hard on the inside of his thigh and Iorveth gasped a quick breath before his mind was spiraling away from him in pleasure, his body spasming underneath Roche. Roche soothed him through it, rubbing up and down his thighs with hands still slick with paint. 

Iorveth was vaguely aware of curling his leg around Roche’s shoulders, of twitches of too-much sensation as Roche licked away the cum that seeped through his panties. Mostly, he was aware of the haze of pleasure and love. It carried him ever higher, until all the flinches at his scar in the world no longer mattered.

When he finally blinked his eye open, Roche’s face slowly came into view, smirking down at him. Iorveth narrowed his eyes, debating how much energy he wanted to expend. 

Not much, honestly, but he  _ did _ want to be fucked and he wanted it  _ now.  _ So he enjoyed laying back for one moment longer, then wrapped his legs around Roche’s waist and flipped them over. 

“Fuck me, dammit,” Iorveth ripped his panties off with a vague thought to apologize to his tailor. Then he lowered himself down onto Roche, sighing in satisfaction when he was finally full.

“Then there’s like this,” Roche leaned back with an amused grin on his face, even as his chest flushed under the hair scattered there. “Fierce and determined and desperate for cock.” He made absolutely no move to fuck into Iorveth, making the elf do all the work for the first several thrusts.

Then Iorveth snarled in frustration and rolled them over again so that Roche rested snugly between his legs. He  _ could _ fuck himself with Roche’s cock using his legs to move the dh’oine if he had to, but fortunately, Roche shifted to his knees and pulled out until only the tip of his cock remained inside Iorveth. Then he slammed back in hard enough to make Iorveth scream, bending down to bite at Iorveth’s chest and shoulders, marking him with teeth and lovebites and paint.

Iorveth hadn’t known he wanted that, hadn’t known he  _ needed  _ that, but he desperately wanted more.

“Absolutely gorgeous,” Roche whispered into his ear, licking over the curve of it. 

For the first time, Iorveth actually started believing him. 

He tilted his head to meet Roche’s gaze with a half-lidded eye. “Fuck me like you mean it.”

Roche made a small sound and kissed Iorveth messily. Then Roche pulled back and slammed into him roughly. The angle he was bent at had Roche’s cock brushing against the place inside him that sent shivers thought his limbs and he couldn’t help clawing at Roche’s shoulders.

“Touch your ears, darling,” Roche ordered, and suddenly teeth were digging into Iorveth’s inner thigh where it was bent over Roche’s shoulder.

Iorveth arched, his hands raising to follow Roche’s command, running his thumb up the outer edge of his ear. He stroked in time with Roche’s thrusts, pinching just the slightest bit when Roche told him to.

“Vernon,” Iorveth moaned, rocking back against Roche’s thrusts and squeezing around him. There were times he never wished to be anywhere but on Roche’s cock, though those desires were matched equally by all the times he sank inside Roche’s body and never wanted to leave.

Fortunately, Roche seemed to be just as pleased to split what time they had between warming Iorveth’s cock and fucking into him. 

“Stay with me, gorgeous,” Roche murmured against his thigh and sucked another mark there. “Just a little longer, Iorveth, you can do that for me, can’t you?”

Iorveth felt like he was on the edge of spiraling out of existence, the only thing keeping him here the weight of Roche over him, inside him. “Vernon,” seemed to be the only word he was still capable of.

Roche shifted his weight to one hand and tangled the other in Iorveth’s exposed hair. “I would have you like this always,” he said, something soft in his eyes that made Iorveth swallow, “here with me, hiding behind nothing.”

Iorveth released his ear and reached out to touch Roche’s face, to trace the curve of his lip and the line of his cheekbone. Roche smiled at him, leaning into the touch and pressing a kiss to the heel of his palm.

Then Roche very deliberately thrust into him at the same time he yanked hard on his hair. Iorveth came with a gasp that may once have resembled a name. Through the floaty quality of his mind, Iorveth felt Roche pull out and stroke himself until he was spilling all over Iorveth’s chest and stomach. He slumped to the side, deliberately not smearing the mess he’d left on Iorveth and the elf smiled absently. He wondered how he looked, fucked out and on display in only his stockings, clearly marked as Roche’s with the scraps of his ruined panties somewhere nearby.

The thought made him shudder and his thighs still twitched with pleasure. Iorveth reached out to cup a hand around Roche’s neck, tugging him up to meet Iorveth’s lips. Roche murmured sleepily against his mouth, hand coming up until his thumb could rub against Iorveth’s jawline, on his scarred side.

When they pulled back, Roche’s eyes clearly had trouble staying open. “You really are, you know?”

Iorveth swallowed. He couldn’t say yes, not yet, but he was starting to think that one day, he might actually agree.

For now, he squeezed the back of Roche’s neck. “Go to sleep, dh’oine.”

Roche laughed and grabbed Iorveth’s hand, raising it to his mouth to kiss the back of it. Then he buried his face in the pillows of their nest. Iorveth stared up at the stars, listening to Roche’s slow breaths and absently stroking his thumb along Roche’s hand. 

**Author's Note:**

> I've been living in this canon AU 'verse for ages now, working on like 12 different WiPs at once, so if anything doesn't make sense, please flag for me!!


End file.
